


wherever you are

by crownless



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Brothers Green Eats, M/M, Minor Cosette Fauchelevent/Marius Pontmercy, Minor Joly/Bossuet Laigle/Musichetta, YouTube
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-05-22 15:38:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6085293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crownless/pseuds/crownless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story in which R is an idiot, Courf is an asshole, and Enjolras is just oblivious.</p>
<p>(Or: a les mis fic inspired by brothers green eats videos, in which Grantaire makes cooking videos for Enjolras).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. courfeyrac has a bad idea

Wedged in between Courfeyrac and the arm of the sofa, Grantaire sits staring blankly at the other man's cell phone on the coffee table, certainly not hoping it will ring. With Enjolras gone studying abroad in England, Grantaire is left with no one to argue with but himself. Well, and Courfeyrac. It's not like Courfeyrac would argue with Grantaire anyway.

Whatever Courfeyrac lacked in that sense, he made up for with his uncanny ability to read people and Grantaire had no doubt in his mind that Courfeyrac was fully aware that he was missing Enjolras. It's not like Grantaire was very good at hiding it.

  
"Stop moping, 'Taire. Take this as an opportunity for some real bro time. Just you and me and well, maybe Eponine, she's fun. Speaking of fun," Courfeyrac trails off, nudging Grantaire and pointing to the kitchen, where it just so happens the alcohol also is.

  
Fighting the urge to strangle Courfeyrac, as many people have to do, Grantaire walks to the kitchen pantry to grab the hard stuff. Definitely going to need that if Courf is staying later.

  
"I do not miss Enjolras or his stupid golden hair or his pretentious arguments. I am certainly not moping! Please tell me this is not going to be 'bro time', I'm not sure how long I could last. If anything, 'real bro time' with you would make me mopey, even if you somehow manage to drag Ep into it." Grantaire shouts from the kitchen, with a few good natured glares.

  
Courfeyrac makes a mock offended choking sound and falls on the ground, doing something stupid even if Grantaire isn't sure what it is yet. He peaks from the kitchen and sees the other man faking dead, hand over his heart, eyes closed and tongue sticking out.

  
In a very ineffective whisper he tells Grantaire, "It's like when you say you don't believe in fairies in Peter Pan. I'm the fairy and you've just murdered me with words. So thanks for that, R."  
He peaks one eye open to peer back at Grantaire and giggles at the sour face he's making before feigning dead again. Grantaire couldn't help but smile at the endearing idiot before turning his attention back to the drinks. One thing could always be said about Grantaire's house, it might be small but it was mighty, and there was always a drink within arms reach.

  
"You know, R, I could totally kick your ass for not laughing at my jokes," Courfeyrac starts but his phone rings, interrupting him, "Ah, saved by the bell. Courfeyrac, master of all mystery, and king of glitter here, which mortal has the honour to speak to me today?"

  
A phone call with Courfeyrac was always an interesting one.

  
The other man pauses and looks confused for about five seconds before yelling into the phone, "Enjolras, my main man!"

  
Grantaire's heart lurches involuntarily, and Grantaire is so in over his head. He strains to hear Courfeyrac talking in the other room. He can hear Courfeyrac walking around the room, like he often does while on the phone, but only speaking the occasional grunt of agreement. Grantaire's curiosity peaks, usually Courfeyrac was the one to do most of the talking, so he looks into the living room. The old grey leather couch takes up the majority of the space in the room, with a small T.V. in front of it and a mismatched coffee table and cabinet in their own positions. Art and bottles were scattered throughout the room and there were DVDs Courfeyrac had pulled out all over the floor. Courfeyrac's black head of hair bobs slightly as he walks around the room, picking up various items on the table and cabinet and opening random drawers. He never could keep his hands still.

  
"So what you're telling me is that you can't cook at all? Like at all, at all?" He pauses and smiles at whatever Enjolras responds with, "Well we will have to change that won't we? A man has to eat."

  
Courfeyrac starts to turn towards Grantaire, so he jumps back into the kitchen. He hears Courfeyrac exchange goodbyes and hang up the phone. Then, Grantaire hears a horrible squeaking sound that sounds oddly like Courfeyrac.

  
"Hey R! What's taking so long on the drinks?" He calls from the living room.

  
"Alright, alright I coming, keep your shirt on." Grantaire grabs the drinks and strides into the living room, handing one to Courfeyrac, "What did he have to say?" he says, trying to be nonchalant.

  
"Oh, Enjolras? He's just mad about the fact that he can't cook for shit."

  
Grantaire shot the other man a inquisitive look, getting an exasperated one in return, an oh-my-god-why-don't-you-just-talk-to-him-you-know-you-want-to look. Courfeyrac is of course too smart to say such things to Grantaire, so instead he rolls his eyes and continues, "You know his cooking knowledge is about as extensive as his patience. He's living in an apartment with a kitchen but he doesn't know how to cook and there aren't any restaurants nearby that don't, how did he put it, 'feed the corporate greed'."

  
"So what then? How's he going to eat?"

  
"Oh, I have a plan." Courfeyrac says with an easy smirk that makes Grantaire uneasy.

  
"Please tell me this plan doesn't involve me," Grantaire replies.

  
Instead of answering, Courfeyrac holds up a finger and goes over to the couch. He puts his hands between the couch cushions and pulls out an object. Grantaire rolls his eyes. He can't quite make out what it is, but it wouldn't be the first time Courfyerac had done something like this.

  
"Dude, you have got to stop hiding things in my couch. Seriously, that's not normal." Grantaire says with an easy smile.

  
Courfeyrac just waves a hand, gesturing that the fact is unimportant and then with his good hand holds out the object, like it's a fucking prize. And, wow, Grantaire really hates Courfeyrac. Grantaire sputters and reaches for the sketchbook, his sketchbook, definitely not for Courfeyrac's eyes. Or whoever his plan involves. Courfeyrac easily moves it away from his reach.

  
"Courf, please, give it back. That's-" He broke off, not wanting to give Courfeyrac too much information.

  
"Look, nobody is gonna see this. And by nobody I mean Enjolras. This art is actually amazing and you two are both just-" he makes a frustrated noise, "You both just need to get your shit together." He shakes his head, baffled.

  
Grantaire breaths a sigh of relief.

  
"You are my favourite person ever, have I said that often enough?" Grantaire says with a smirk, knowing what some of his other friends would have done with the sketchbook.

  
"Well, I won't let Enjolras see it if you make him cooking videos. Did I mention that part?" Courfeyrac grins from ear to ear, knowing Grantaire has no choice in this.  
"No, you fucking didn't mention that. Forget what I said before, you are the worst person ever."

  
Grantaire really should have expected this, after all, it was Courfeyrac. He never strayed from his usual banter and tricks, why should today be any different. Enjolras could not see that sketchbook, though, so Grantaire had no choice. Why does he hang out with Courfeyrac again?

  
"I'll take that as a hesitant yes." Courfeyrac says and grins again.


	2. we make food

"I come bearing cameras! Well, just one, actually," Courfeyrac says, frowning, as he walks into Grantaire's house.

"I believe there's a door for a reason, and also a thing called knocking." Grantaire tells him.

Courfeyrac strolls over to Grantaire, clearly ignoring general human decency. Today, he's dressed in his unusual, usual fashion with black skinny jeans and a pink t-shirt with a patterned bow tie that was certainly not required. His black curly hair was styled so it was out of his face, gelled back slightly, and his chocolate brown eyes sparkle with mischief. The charming smile he wore now won many phone numbers from the best looking people in the room, even when he looked his worst. Enjolras could also get a fair amount of phone numbers without any effort whatsoever, people just handed them to him. Unlike Enjolras, Courfeyrac was actually interested in dating and made full use of the numbers he claimed. He was a ridiculous man but a kind one, and Grantaire admired him for that at least. Maybe not right now.

"So you ready for your close up, Grantaire? I sure am, this is gonna be good," Courfeyrac says with that stupid grin he uses when he's cheating at cards or blackmailing his friends. He makes a rectangle with his pointer fingers and thumbs and squints into the box, like he was zooming in with a camera. Grantaire rolls his eyes.

"Really, you can't let me have a day of peace before I embarrass myself on the internet? Can't we start tomorrow, I just want one day more," Grantaire complains.

"Enj is starving in England and you're here complaining about one tinsy little video,"

"First, Enjolras is not starving, I'm sure he has people falling all over him to make his lunches. Second, you said I had to do a series of videos so, you, Courfeyrac, are a dirty filthy liar."

He fucking shrugs.

"Fine, I'm clearly getting nowhere with you so can we just get this over with?"

"Do you want to change or nah? Only Enj and the entire internet is going to see it so no pressure," He smiles at his own joke and continues, "Seriously though, I think you look hot but I could totally Courf you up."

Grantaire looks down at himself. He's wearing his usual, jeans, a band t-shirt and a flannel shirt thrown over top of it. Of course each item of clothing is stained with colour from painting. He knows his mess of dark curls is nowhere near as tamed as Courfeyrac's. He does, however, have a beanie on top of it, so someone could be deceived into thinking it wasn't a mess. Grantaire was very sure that he did not want to be 'Courf'ed up and he was pretty sure this was as good as it was going to get.

"I'm good without the skinny jeans and shutter-shades. Thanks though." Grantaire says with a small smile.

Courfeyrac gives him a pained expression, like he's being physically assaulted by the insult. He reaches his hand out and pulls back like his touched something hot. While cradling his hand he says, "Wow, burn."

Grantaire shakes his head slightly and takes the camera off from around Courfeyrac's neck while he's distracted, prepared for whatever hellish venture was sure to follow. He turns the camera in his hands, looking for the power button. It was a fairly nice camera, probably stolen from Jehan, another of their combined friends. Switching it on successfully, Grantaire turns to look at Courfeyrac.

"You're still here because..?" Grantaire asks.

"I have the tripod in my car. Plus, I don't trust you to actually do this," He says, raising an eyebrow at Grantaire accusingly, "Didn't you just say that you wanted to do it tomorrow?"

Grantaire makes an exasperated noise, knowing that Courfeyrac is partially right but not daring to admit that. Each of Grantaire's friends followed the same policy. Deny anything Courfeyrac says, never admit that he's right. It never ends well.

He groans when he looks at Courfeyrac's way too eager face but nonetheless, still says (probably out of utter stupidity), "Fine, you can stay. Get the tripod,"

Courfeyrac races out the door, too happy to mutter about manners. Grantaire exhales and runs a hand through his hair, he wouldn't say that he was nervous. He wouldn't admit that. It's not like anyone would watch it anyway.

~

Courfeyrac is behind the camera yelling at Grantaire about how unenthusiastic he's being. He waves a hand frantically and presses a button on the side of the camera.

"Dude, what's up? It's only sandwiches, they're supposed to be afraid of us not the other way around," Courfeyrac says slowly, looking only a little concerned.

"They are inanimate objects, Courfeyrac. They don't have emotions." He takes a piece of bread and bites into it.

Grantaire was already unhappy with the video. Peanut butter, Nutella, jams, lunch meats, and whatever else could be considered a sandwich condiment had taken over his kitchen table.

"I'm sure the bread is very offended by that, R. You shouldn't abuse them like that," Courfeyrac says, pretending to be offended.

Grantaire rolls his eyes.

"Don't you think he knows how to make sandwiches?" Grantaire says and leans against the kitchen table.

"It's Enjolras we're talking about here, R, he doesn't know anything."

"I wish that was recorded. But seriously I'm not that great at making sandwiches either..The only thing I'm good at is making food that tastes good when you're drunk."

"Then do it! I think that's a great idea, plus that's all Enjolras would eat. Here I'll show you," Courfeyrac says before turning on the camera and walking over to make sandwiches, "Hi guys! I'm Courfeyrac and this is FeedEnjolras, today we'll be making-"

"Oh my god." Grantaire yells, cutting him off, "You want to be on camera. That's why you're still here!"

"Of course not! I'm here to support you on your journey on the Internet!" Grantaire raises an eyebrow accusingly.

Courfeyrac sighs.

"Alright, fine maybe I want to be in a video or two."

"Well I don't really want to do these alone, so I guess you can be in this one. After all, I'm sure you know what tastes good when you're drunk."

Courfeyrac puts his hand on his heart and gasps, "How dare you make that assumption!" he smiles.

Grantaire shakes his head, "Alright let's do this,"

Courfeyrac walks over and turns on the camera. He flashes Grantaire a thumbs up and a smile.

In a high pitched and overenthusiastic voice Grantaire says, "Hello people of this universe! I'm Grantaire and this is FeedEnjolras. Now you see, we made this channel because our poor friend, bless him, can't cook and of course the only rational thing to do in this situation is to post instructional videos on YouTube! As if there aren't enough of those!" He grins a stupid grin before continuing, "Now today I will not be working alone, I have a beautiful assistant with me. This my dears, is the king of glitter himself, Courfeyrac!"

Courfeyrac jumps in view of the camera, smiling and waving enthusiastically. Grantaire follows his suit and does exactly what he does, mocking his friend.

"He may or may not have blackmailed me into this. Hint: it's the first one!" He smiles and winks at the camera, knowing he was over exaggerating. Doing these videos could be fun. Especially if he got to mock Courfeyrac.

"Hey! I resent that!" Courfeyrac exclaims.

"At least he didn't deny it, eh?" He elbows Courfeyrac and gives the camera a thumbs up, "Now let's see what's in the pantry shall we?"

Grantaire takes the camera and starts to dig through the cupboards, pulling out this and that and presenting it to the camera before continuing. After a while, he has a fair amount of food and quite a large variety at that. Grantaire had always had the ability of using the strangest food he could find and making it taste good. It helped if you were drunk. Courfeyrac watches him pull the last of the food out of the cupboard with a mild look of disgust.

"Hey, R?" He asks.

"Yes, monsieur Courfeyrac?"

"That looks disgusting.. What are we making again?" Courfeyrac walks over and picks up the bag of Doritos and cream cheese and gives the camera a questioning look. Grantaire grins but doesn't say anything, earning a look of fear from Courfeyrac. Finally, the other man was afraid of Grantaire for once.

"Alright YouTube, time for the fun part," He holds up a bag of soft tortillas, "This video is going to be for when you've got the munchies, we're talking stage 1-2 level fucked up. Drunk, stoned, hey, I don't judge," He holds his hand up in surrender as if to show what he had just said.

"Okay so we're going to be using a foreman grill for all of these. Take your 'dillas and spread some creme de cheese or cream cheese up on there. Then take your favourite peanut butter, mine of course is Kraft because who doesn't like smooooth peanut butter? I could totally do some advertising for them, don't you think? Anyway, you take the peanut butter and you spread it all over the other side. Now take the bestest jam jelly you got and put that shit on the peanut butter. Slap that all together and throw it on the grill. Be proud, now you've got yourselves a gourmet meal."

Courfeyrac makes a face. He pushes his hair back and tries at a smile. He fails. Grantaire decides to take this as an opportunity.

"Courfeyrac, since you have helped me through this process, I want you to be the first to try these masterpieces." He flashes him a devious grin and then there's that look of fear from Courfeyrac again and, wow, Grantaire is beginning to enjoy himself.

"Oh no, R, I don't-" he stammers, if only briefly, "I couldn't ruin that beauty."

"Please do." Courfeyrac glares at Grantaire but picks up the makeshift quesadilla and takes a cautious bite. His face changes from a look of fear to a sort of amazement.

"This actually isn't that bad! It's kinda good!"

"And there we have it folks! The pretentious Courfeyrac even likes it!" He again uses the most annoying voice he can muster.

Courfeyrac nods and gives the camera a thumbs up while chewing. He takes another bite, surprising Grantaire yet again. Grantaire blushes, happy to see that someone likes his cooking, happy that something good could come from him. He shakes his head slightly, Courfeyrac was probably faking it anyway.

"Don't fill up on that my friend, there's more to come! On to our next recipe, Scrambled Egg Nachos,"

He gathers up the supplies he'll need, showing each to the camera. A small bag of Doritos, two eggs, grated cheese, and salsa. He pulls the foreman grill over in front of the camera and pours some oil on. The grill sizzles back at him.

"Now, I know that it seems weird to put eggs on a foreman grill but hey, weird is kinda my bitch. So you're gonna grab your eggs and crack those babies on to the foreman grill, then you take your salsa," he says pausing to enunciate the SA and grab the bottle from where he put it, "and you pour it on your eggs. Now take a fork, preferably not a metal one like I'm about to use and you scramble it all together. Take your grated cheese and put as much of that as you like. There are no measurements in this kitchen, the stoner is the limit."

Grantaire gestures to himself, like he's proving his own point and then points at Courfeyrac too. Courfeyrac makes his best shocked face.

"Anyway, then you take it of the heat when it is cooked like s'mo," He adds a m in the so because he can, "and you put it in the bag of Doritos after my lovely assistant has crushed them,"

Grantaire gives Courfeyrac a look to get him motivated and Courfeyrac obliges, crushing the Doritos with a spoon, while still in the bag. "Now you just open up the bag and pour in your egg mixture. Voila, you got piping hot self delivery! Now, this I have made many a times before because it's great for when you're in a hurry. I know someone who is always in a hurry. Right, E?" he winks horribly before continuing, "You take the bag and just roll it on up and you've got great food for early classes! I'm a genius! Who woulda thought? Courfeyrac, your taste please,"

Courfeyrac takes a fork and stabs into the bag, coming up with a successful forkful. He tries the mixture and closes his eyes to savour the goodness. He makes a thumbs up with the fork. He says something along the lines of 'it's really good' but it's hard to make out with food still in his mouth.

"Alright, audience, get ready to get weird. This next one you should save for when you are stage 3 fucked up and you don't want to be around fire. It is called," he pauses to glance at Courfeyrac, "drumroll please,"

Courfeyrac smiles and drums on the kitchen counter with the spoon and fork.

"It's called Rice Krispie Treat Bacon Banana Sandwich! What a mouthful," he winks again, "Now you wanna take two rice krispie treats, you can buy them or make them, I don't care, but you put your peanut butter on there, both sides. Again, I'm going with smooooothhh, but you do you. The you take half a frozen banana and cut it in half so you have a flat side."

Grantaire demonstrates, over exaggerating, with his leopard print knife.

"Slap that on the peanut butter, only the one half though, and then on the other side, take your precooked bacon. Fire is a bad idea, remember? Slap that on there and squish your sandywich together. There ya have it, another beauty brought to you by Grantaire. Fancy a try, Courf?"

He looks unsure, but says "Uhhh, not really sure, but you haven't failed me yet, R, don't fail me this time," He takes a bite and breaks into a grin, "You always get it right on the money, R,"

Grantaire feels the blood rush to his cheeks again, but he will not admit that he might be enjoying himself a little. I mean, it was Courfeyrac's idea, how could it actually be a good one?

"Now this recipe is one of my personal favourites because let's be honest here, cereal is the most important food group. Cereal, great as it is on its own, can be made better. Proof you ask? Proof you will get. Grab your favourite cereal, I gotta have me lucky charms," Grantaire says in a horrible Irish accent. He pours the cereal into a bowl and grabs vanilla ice cream out of the freezer.

"Now, now YouTube, I know you may call me boring for vanilla ice cream, but I am a vanilla man and if you don't like it, you can fight me. I'm going to take my vanilla ice cream and put it on in with the cereal. You can also take whatever toppings you want, chocolate chips, raisins, I don't care. You're going to want to mix that around and make sure you get some ice cream in with a bite because it'll give it this cold creamy goodness."

He takes a spoon from the counter and hands it to Courfeyrac.

"It's a delight for my mouth sensations!!" Courfeyrac yells, while taking a bite.

Maybe Grantaire wasn't such a bad cook after all. I mean he was definitely better than Enjolras, but let's be honest, anyone was better than Enjolras. You could burn water and be a better cook than Enjolras.

"Pause it, okay Courf? Let's take a break,"

Courfeyrac walks over to the camera and clicks a button. The little red light on the side turns off. Grantaire exhales and feels his body relax. He takes a whiskey bottle from out of the cupboard and pours it into a glass. He sees Courfeyrac roll his eyes.

"This is why I paused the video? It's noon you realize,"

Grantaire picks up the bottle instead and takes a swig. The familiar burn runs down his throat and warms his stomach. Courfeyrac gives him one last concerned look but then grabs the bowl of cereal and starts to eat the rest. They sit in silence for a while, Courfeyrac eating and Grantaire drinking, before Courfeyrac yet again breaks it.

"You're not half bad, you know. You could totally hook me up for my next date,"

"What, with Combeferre?" Grantaire says with a smile.

Courfeyrac blushes and gives him a sideways grin.

"Ha ha, very funny. But hey next time we're having dinner, I'll take up on that. Combaeferre loves it when I cook," he teases.

"I'd be cooking, stupid. I've never seen you cook anything!"

"Well, on that topic let's get back to it,"

~

Grantaire puts a piece of ham on the counter and squeezes dijon mustard on top of it.

"Then you roll up the ham into a little mustard sandwich and you take your donuts," He pulls out the package of mini powdered donuts and takes two out, "and you put the ham in the middle. When you've done that you put it on the grill until their nice and crispy."

Grantaire puts them on the grill and watches them cook. Courfeyrac looks worried about the state of them so he adds, "Now they may look a little black but that's only because of all the sugar on there, it's all good. And most importantly still tastes fantastic."

He uses a spatula to take them off the grill and Courfeyrac steals one without being asked. Grantaire smiles at his friend. He watches as Courfeyrac shoves it in his mouth and becomes alarmed when he realizes how hot the food actually is. Grantaire laughs at him.

"You know this reminds me of the last time I made these. I was really messed up and I was at this place where I had paint and I remember this wall and I thought it was the perfect place to start a mural. I painted this wall and I was calling people all like, 'This is amazing, it's a masterpiece, you have to come see it!' and the next day we go over and I'm sober and the whole wall was just brown. It looked like someone just shit all over a wall," Grantaire laughs softly to himself.

Courfeyrac nearly chokes on the donut he's eating.

~

Courfeyrac and Grantaire sit by the computer editing their work, adding references they know will piss Enjolras off. At the end of the video they add a nice message:

_Grantaire, what you have just made is some of the most idiotic food I have ever seen. At no point in your rambling, incoherent recipes were you even close to making anything that could even be considered food. Everyone on the internet is now dumber for having watched this. I award you no Michelin Stars and may god have mercy on your soul._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was based on the video below  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IsUX0ck4Vow
> 
> thanks for reading!


	3. a grand misadventure

      Grantaire sits contently on Eponine's counter while she makes them sandwiches like when they were kids. She even cuts off the crust. Like she knows he's staring, she looks up at where he _is_ staring... He makes a face, earning a smile and a slight shake of the head.

  
        "So, R, wanna tell me how Courfeyrac got you to make a video for Enjolras? I want details,"

  
        Grantaire groans and puts his head in his hands. Maybe if he stays like this everyone will just forget about the video, or maybe Courfeyrac won't make him do another one. Eponine nudges him and without looking up, he can tell that she's giving him a look. 

  
        "R, come on, it can't be that bad.."

  
        "It is that bad, Ep. I am not budging on this one, like I really just want to forget about it." He mumbles through his hands.

  
        He hears clicking and then Eponine is playing _Teenage Dream_  by Katy Perry and Grantaire has to move his hands from his face to his ears.

  
        "I thought we had an agreement! We never play this song _ever_ again!" Grantaire yells above the music. 

  
        Eponine turns it up louder, her hands also over her ears, "It's not like I enjoy listening to this, R! It's the only way you're gonna tell me what I want to know, so I suggest telling me sooner rather than later." 

  
        "What are you, the mafia!?"

  
        They'd all been packed in a car with Courfeyrac and Enjolras, heading to a protest when they'd been trapped in traffic and Courfeyrac decided he'd 'make this all better' and put this song on repeat. When they'd finally escaped his car, _four_ hours later, they'd all agreed to never speak of this again and most definitely not play the song. Courfeyrac was the only one to disagree but still didn't dare play it around them. It seemed Eponine was going to ignore their contract.

  
        "At least Courf isn't singing along this time," Grantaire mutters, just loud enough so that Eponine can hear.

 

        "What? I can call him, you know." Eponine threatens, cell phone in hand.

  
        Granaire gives her a glare, he doesn't want to admit that he might actually be getting a little mad. He hated that he was vulnerable, he shouldn't have to deal with this, he didn't want to deal with this. Even if he might have had it coming. He didn't want to take it out on Eponine though, she was his best friend. 

  
        "Look Ep, it's been fan-tas-tic, but I think I'm going to go home. I'm not feeling this," he makes a gesture with his hands, "talking thing."

  
        He starts to get up from where he's been siting, to grab his jacket off the table and to head for the door. The music stops. He pauses, and it leaves Eponine enough time to block his way to the door. Grantaire gives her another glare. She looks worried, great.

  
        "R, I was just kidding, I didn't mean anything by it. Is this about Enjolras?" She looks at him with that look that says she already knows the answer.

  
        "Sort of. Can we just forget about this?" 

  
        "It's not just going to go away, you know Courfeyrac. Is he trying to help you get his attention or something? I'm not sure Enjolras even knows these videos exist."

  
        "I'm sure Courfeyrac made him fully aware, trust me." Grantaire mutters and runs a hand through his hair. His hand itches for a cigarette and he aches for a drink. He must have made some show of it because then Eponine was reaching in her cupboard and pulling out a bottle of whiskey. He really loved his friend. He watches as she pours it into two generous glasses.

   
        She hands him a glass, "I thought we might need these."

  
        He takes it, grateful for something to distract him, and takes a sip, feeling the familiar burn down his throat.

  
        "So, what happened?" She's coaxing an answer from him. He decides to give in. 

  
        "He has my sketchbook, Ep. Well, I mean technically I think he gave it to Bahorel but I don't think it really matters." He takes another drink.

  
        "Like, _the_ sketchbook, the one with-"

  
        "Yes. That one."

  
        It was her turn to take a drink..

  
        "Well, shit. What are we going to do about it?"

~

        Grantaire and Eponine make their way around to the front of the house in the black night. He pulls his black hat down close to his eyes and adjusts his black shirt. He then makes a hand signal that means go around to the back but Eponine looks confused and slightly exasperated. 

  
        "Seriously Grantaire? I got in the black clothes, I agreed to this plan, but I draw the line at hand signals," she whispers.

  
        "Okay, okay. Let's just go around back and see if a window's open or something."  

  
        They tiptoe around the side of the house, maneuvering around trees and bushes. Grantaire runs his hand on the side of the house and looks over at Eponine, who seems to be enjoying herself. With friends like Montparnasse, Grantaire wasn't surprised. They checked each window, only to find that they were each locked tightly shut. 

  
        "Well, I guess that's the end of it.." Grantaire says, trying not to let his disappointment seep into his voice. 

  
        "What are you talking about? We still have to check the back door," Eponine smiles, and wow she's so going to get into this house one way or another.

  
        They walk around to the back and Eponine tries the door. It's locked. Grantaire feels that same disappointment again, but only momentarily. Eponine takes something out of her pocket, a lock pick, Grantaire thinks. Damn, she's good. She picks the lock with an ease that would make anyone think she'd done it before. The door clicks open.

  
        Eponine pushes the door farther open and they find their way inside. It's dark in Bahoel's house and it's awfully quiet, strangely. It's barely past one a.m., and Grantaire is surprised to find little movement in the house. Bahorel must be asleep, even if that was odd for him. There was a dark silhouette in the middle of the room, big enough to be a large piece of furniture. There was another smaller silhouette beside the larger of the two.

  
        Grantaire and Eponine approach with caution.  As they get closer, Grantaire realizes that it's not furniture but rather Bahorel, asleep in an armchair. 

  
        "Can you see anything?" Grantaire whispers to Eponine.

  
        "No, turn on your phone, we'll see better," Eponine whispers back.

  
        Grantaire does as she says and flicks on his phone. Dim light fills the room and Grantaire can clearly see Bahorel in his armchair, holding a shotgun. They both unleash a string of curses. Bahorel was still dangerous in his sleep but at least it was better than him awake with a shotgun.

  
        "How'd he even get a shotgun?" Grantaire asks, exasperated.

  
        "Just find the sketchbook and let's get out of here," 

  
        Grantaire moves his phone around, spreading the light in different places of the room. Then he stops beside Bahorel, his sketchbook was on the table beside him tucked under a lamp. He gestures to Eponine, who doesn't look happy that they're doing hand signals again, but doesn't argue (probably out of fear of Bahorel). He then creeps up to the table and reaches his arm over, very slowly. He's touching the sketchbook and holy shit he might actually pull this off.

  
        Then an arm grabs on to his.

  
        "Don't touch that, Grantaire." 

  
        And holy shit, it's Bahorel speaking. Grantaire jumps up, hitting his head on the lamp in the process. Another string of curses follow. Yanking his arm he shrieks, calls out to Eponine and bolts out the door. 

  
        Eponine and Grantaire make it out and keep running, all the way down the street and then another block, just to be safe. Thankfully no one follows.  Panting, with adrenaline pumping through their bodies, Eponine and Grantaire look at each other with both panic and relief.

  
        "I can't believe that just happened," Grantaire exclaims between laboured breaths.

  
        "We are not doing that again, R," Eponine says, "We nearly got shot."

  
        "I guess we're doing those videos, but hey, I suffer, you suffer. You're going to be in one with me." Grantaire says, leaning on Eponine.

  
        "Yeah, well, I need a drink."


	4. errands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is dedicated to kate, a dear friend of mine, who happens to make puns in the grocery store with me. also, a really big thanks to sarah/gav for helping me figure where i'm going with this, i really appreciate it. this chapter also has r's anxiety, and i'm sorry if you don't think it's well represented, it's just how i feel when i am especially anxious.

The sun makes its way into the sky and directly through the window. Grantaire opens his eyes slowly and feels like he's been blinded. He blinks a couple times and waits for them to adjust. The sky outside is bright blue and fluffy clouds drift through, carefree, almost mocking Grantaire. His head pounds and he feels like he's going to throw up. He runs a hand down his face, feeling the rough stubble, rubbing sleep from his eyes and sits up.

Dust floats through the air, spiralling down to the floor, as the sun shines on it from the window. Grantaire looks around for Eponine or anything that can help his headache. Seeing nothing from the worn couch, he decides to investigate and eases himself up from where he had been lying. Immediately, he regrets that decision. He feels like he's been hit with several bricks and now the sun shines right in his face, increasing the already searing pain from his headache. He groans and puts his head in his hands in a futile attempt to block out the sun. He hears footsteps but can't bring himself to move.

"Oh, hey sleeping beauty, how ya feeling?" A voice that sounds an awful lot like Eponine singsongs.

He lets out a moan in response.

"That bad, huh?"

"How are you living?" Grantaire growls back. He turns his head, squinting over at Eponine.

She shrugs her shoulders with an easy smile, "It's a gift."

"I hate you."

She laughs and then walks over to her cupboard grabbing a bottle of Tylenol and filling a glass of water. Wordlessly, she walks over and hands them to Grantaire. The cool glass feels nice against his skin and his throat feels tight, and his mouth parched, like he hasn't drank anything in days. They both know that's not the case. Gratefully, he drinks half of the glass, only pausing to take the pills before downing the other half. Eponine watches him, making sure that he drinks the whole thing. Seemingly satisfied, she turns her attention to the curtains, partially drawn over the window, doing what Grantaire thinks is a very bad job of keeping the sun out.

With a screech of metal grinding against metal, Eponine pulls the curtains open, a smirk forming on her lips.

"What. The. Fuck." Grantaire yells, much too loudly for his own liking. He attempts to shield his eyes, but fails, like he does in most aspects in life.

Eponine is sadistic as fuck apparently. She smiles and says something about what a nice day it is, but Grantaire is too busy feeling like complete and utter shit to listen. As he contemplates how he is going to murder her and where he will dump her body, he hears the apartment door scream as it opens.

"Hey Ep! Hey R," Gavroche yells.

"Ow." Grantaire makes a show of his pain, "Really? Could you be any louder?"

He loved the kid but really? Gavroche was a whirlwind, coming and going as he pleased, wild, never to be tamed, spreading chaos wherever he went next. He was also Eponine's little brother, although they may not look alike. Eponine had a mess of dark curly hair, deep brown eyes and olive skin. She had high cheek bones and a petite structure. Gavroche had the same skin tone, but bright blue eyes and lighter brown shaggy hair defined him. He always seemed to look disheveled and was smaller than most children his age, not that it stopped him. They had the same mischievous sparkle in their eyes, so much so that Grantaire had seen the resemblance straight away. Grantaire had a soft spot for both of them.

He'd met Eponine seven years ago, when Gavroche had been just five, Eponine just sixteen. He'd been at a party thrown by some upperclassmen at his school, trying to get shitfaced and mostly succeeding. Eponine had approached him at about the same time he'd made it through a third of the whiskey bottle. She had eyed him, trying to read him and decided to ask him if he'd like to purchase some of her merchandise, weed, that is. He had responded with something along the lines of: twelve year olds aren't supposed to sell weed, I think you're in the wrong business. He was pretty sure she'd hit him and mumbled something about how she wasn't fucking twelve. The next time they met, Grantaire had been avoiding class, and sadly sober. He had gone out for a smoke behind the school and a cold looking Eponine had greeted him with a glare. Soon after that, he figured out that they were in fact, the same age, and in the same grade. Eponine didn't try to sell him weed again, but it did become a sort of routine meeting place. After they got through the glaring, they became fast friends. Shortly after, Grantaire met Gavroche, a small creature with the same fight, the same look in his eyes.

It was only later he had realized why they had such fire in their eyes. Eponine had tried to hide it as best as she could but Grantaire knew that their parents had mistreated both children. She had spent most of her time with Grantaire by that point, Gavroche tagging along when he could. Clearly their parents didn't care when they fell asleep on Grantaire's couch, or when they didn't come home for days at a time. When Eponine was old enough to leave she took Gavroche with her, they didn't seem to mind then either.

He is pulled from his thoughts as Gavroche jumps on the couch beside him, scaring him half to death. He's pretty sure he jumps, because Gavroche lets out a little laugh and settles beside him, satisfied. Grantaire lets out a low growl.

"So Grantaiiiiree, are you going to the meeting tonight?" Gavroche asks, clearly louder than he needs to, but excitedly nonetheless.

"How do you even know about that? Courfeyrac hasn't even told everyone yet,"

Gavroche lets himself smile and peaks over to Eponine before whispering to Grantaire, "I have my ways,"

At least he was whispering.

"How mysterious." Grantaire replies, dryly, before tickling the kid. Gavroche laughs but escapes rather easily.

Eponine smiles at Gavroche and the sour face he's making. Grantaire reaches to ruffle his hair and he shakes out of his grip, pretending to be too cool for the familiar gesture.

"Hey Gav? Can you go get Grantaire some more water?" Eponine asks, winking at him.

He beams and takes the cup from Grantaire and runs to the kitchen. Grantaire can hear water running as he draws his attention back to Eponine. They exchange a look and laugh. Gavroche comes running back and presents Grantaire with the water, with a yell, to give Grantaire another rush of pain.

"Thanks, kid."

"Can you go bang some pots together or something now?" Eponine asks, "It'll help Grantaire's headache,"

He smiles deviously, and yes, Grantaire can definitely see the resemblance.

~

Grantaire walks into the grocery store, Eponine trailing not far behind him. He turns into the first isle and smiles at the cans and jars on the shelves.

"I _can_ not believe it." He says with a smile.

"I know, so _jar_ ring." Eponine replies, easily.

It had become a sort of routine for them. Coming to grocery stores, well any store really, and making puns with whatever they saw. It was a competition of sorts.

Grantaire watches as Eponine fiddles with the camera that he was sure Jehan was still missing. He sees the familiar blinking red dot and knows that they're filming. Eponine gives him an expectant look.

"Hey YouTube, it's me again! I figured that if I'm going to do this, I'm gonna do it right. How can you get ingredients for these masterpieces we're making if you don't know how to grocery shop?" His voice is dripping with sarcasm, but at least Courfeyrac isn't there to call him on it. Remembering that he was not, in fact, with Courfeyrac, he introduces Eponine, who flicks the camera around to give viewers a wave.

He turns back to the shelves looking at the oils and vinegars. Picking up a bottle of canola oil, he shows it to the camera.

"Oil can be used for many different things," Winking, he moves on, "There are a lot of them, used for different purposes, but one of the best oils, I think, is canola oil, " He picks a bottle up off the shelf and shows the audience, "It's six bucks for all that oil, it's great for frying, and it doesn't really have a distinct flavour. That's really good because then you can use it with pretty much anything. Like, if you cook with olive oil, it's going to change the flavour which isn't bad if you have good olive oil but who can afford that shit? If you get bad olive oil, then it messes up the taste, so canola oil's a good bet. People like vegetable oil, but I don't really know why."

"Hey R, _olive_ you," Eponine drawls, making it sound like I love you.

He laughs and puts the oil in the cart. Pushing it ahead, he jumps on it and feels it slide, nearly falling off. He rights himself, but then realizes that he's supposed to be concentrating on a video.

" _Olive_ you too, Ep. The other essential thing we need in this isle is vinegar. There are a couple vinegars that are really good, like balsamic vinegar is really good to add flavours to salads and that kind of stuff. White vinegar is always just good to have, you can pickle with it, you can add it to stuff to give it a little," He makes a sizzle sound, "Apple cider is another one, it's sweet, glorious. Red wine vinegar, etc. There's a lot to choose from." Grantaire picks the rice vinegar off the shelf and explains how it's good in Asian cooking and the sushi he likes to make.

"A vinegar in most cooking is awesome 'cause it just adds that extra," He makes a gesture, implying an extra something, "Anytime you're making something like sauces, especially, any kind of food you kinda want to have a little extra fight and you don't want it to taste saltier, vinegar, citrus, that's the way to go. Anyway, I normally just skip past the salad dressings but there's a lot to choose from."

Eponine sees the ketchup and points, "You better try to _Ketch_ -up,"

"Ha ha! Yes, ketchup is also a really good base for sauces, too. I don't actually like ketchup regularly but it's good on eggs or for barbecue sauces. But wait, there's our favourite. I don't know if you've seen this around my house," He holds up a bottle of an extra spicy sauce they all love to use, "It's super good, spicy, a little bit sweet and incredible on just about everything." He adds it to the cart.

They travel to the bread section, making puns along the way. There also happens to be a cheese grater in there for some unknown reason.

"Hey Eponine, you're _grate_ , " Grantaire says, "Anyhow, these are the breads, also a lot to pick from. I'm not the biggest bread man, I usually just go over here," He travels to the flatbreads picking them up, "You see this? These are flatbreads, honestly, this is the first stuff that I was ever cooking with. When this stuff's just as is, it's okay but when you heat this stuff up and fry it, you can do crazy shit. So, I'm going to get this multigrain guy." He tosses it in the cart.

They travel through the store pointing out different foods that are important to have in a house hopefully Enjolras gets the cues. They go through dried herbs, mustards, honeys, the baking isle, and much more. Eponine sings sugar, oh honey honey, as they pass both sections. She is also sure to tell him to stop milking it as they pass the dairy section. Grantaire is sure to ask her why she's so cheesey as they pass the cheese and why she has such a big chip in her shoulder as they go by the chips. It goes on like this for a while, exchanging puns, and explaining things to the camera, finding the cheapest options with quality. By the end, Eponine and Grantaire are laughing, ready to sign off.

"Alright, YouTube, I think that's it for the day. I had fun with you guys but we're going to have to say _goodbuy_ ," He makes another pun, hoping they'll get the reference and does a mock salute.

Eponine walks up beside Grantaire and turns the camera so that it can show both of them. They wave goodbye, smiling.

~

Grantaire and Eponine burst through the doors to the Musain, maybe a little late. Courfeyrac is at the front of the room in front of a whiteboard, used by customers irregularly, and Combeferre stands near him, manning the computer, changing slides. Courfeyrac grins when he walks in and Grantaire is yet again left wondering what he's going to do.

"Late again, Grantaire?"

He's wearing a sparkly red top hat and Grantaire's not sure if he wants to know why. Instead he sends Courfeyrac a questioning look.

"Staring is impolite, you know." He responds with.

"Okay, fine. What's with the hat?"

The entire population of the Musain groans at the question, so clearly it was the wrong one to ask.

"I'm Enjolras while he's away."

"Oh Jesus, no. Shouldn't Combeferre be in charge?"

"I am in charge." Combeferre pipes up, holding a hand up.

Courfeyrac moves a finger over Combeferre's lips.

"Shhhhhhhhh Combeyyy."

Grantaire rolls his eyes and goes to sit down at his regular table with Bahorel, Joly and Bossuet. Eponine takes a seat beside him, glancing over at Marius before turning back to the table. Courfeyrac wears the hat ridiculously on his head putting in a mocking reference to Enjolras every now and again. Grantaire drinks. His headache has faded as the day has gone by and really; all he wants right now is a nice buzz. Especially, if Courfeyrac had partial charge over the meeting. Clearly, Combeferre had made the entire slideshow and Courfeyrac had helped him out with the talking bits, as Combeferre had never been very comfortable giving presentations, even if it was just his friends. Around him, his friends did a mix of drinking, talking and actually paying attention. Combeferre and Courfeyrac stay at the front, talking about the issues they are going to focus on this week, Jehan is with Feuilly at another table, drawing on the other man’s arm, Bahorel barks out laughter across the table from him at something Bossuet said, Joly is watching the slideshow intently and Eponine watches as Marius tries to argue a point and fails. Musichetta travels about replacing drinks, but stopping to chat, since she works here. Grantaire loves the familiarity of being here but he can’t help but feel like a piece of him is missing. These people were his family and without Enjolras, it felt wrong somehow, even if he was happy somewhere else.

Even through the cheerful chatting and arguing, the whole room seemed to feel the lack of his presence. Courfeyrac had his stupid goddamn hat on; Combeferre clearly missed his capability to keep control and his speeches. Jehan had moved on to doodling a picture that looked suspiciously like Enjolras in clothing from the 1800s, holding a flag. He could just tell. He and his friends missed him.

Grantaire could tell that Courfeyrac could sense it too. Courfeyrac had always been able to guess at others emotions, usually picking the right ones. He also knew exactly how to help most of the time. As if he can hear Grantaire’s thoughts, Courfeyrac drags a chair into the middle of the room, in front of the projector. He steps onto it, gaining the attention of the entire room.

“Can you even believe that they have the audacity to…” Courfeyrac jumps into a familiar sort of speech that is what Enjolras would do if he were here. Of course Courfeyrac adds his touch, which includes throwing the hat and stomping his feet like a five year old, although he really is doing a good impression.

He finishes his speech and steps off the chair, taking his hat off and dipping into a low bow. Bahorel wolf whistles and cheers, the rest of the group joining him soon after. Shortly, they’re all laughing except Combeferre who is trying to pull a serious _let’s-get-back-to-work_ face but fails when his lips tug into a slight smile.

"Can we get back to politics? Please?"

Combeferre and Courfeyrac finish their slideshow, but after that the meeting comes to a close. His friends grow louder and they joke and tease one another. Bahorel turns his attention to Grantaire, as if he had forgotten about him momentarily.

"Oh hey, R! That bump looks nasty. Get into a good fight?" He asks, even though he knows full well.

"Yeah, lamp got me." He mumbles in return.

The table he's at laughs at the joke, not knowing that he had broken into Bahorel's house to get this fine injury. Grantaire had forgotten about it, really, but maybe it was adding to the headache.

Combeferre is discussing something with Feuilly now and Courfeyrac is talking to Jehan, casually leaning over a table. Bossuet and Joly are discussing if Superman had met Peter Pan in his youth and that's why he could fly. This leads to an argument about how long fairy dust lasts. Eponine has gone to chat with Marius, man was he oblivious. Since everyone is busy aroung them, this leads Bahorel's full attention on Grantaire.

"So, 'Taire, you have those videos now huh?" He says, nonchalant.

"Yeah so?" Grantaire replies, trying to hold back from snapping.

"Touchy subject. Alright well, I was just going to tell you before Courfeyrac did, but I guess not,"

"Tell me what?"

Bahorel laughs and claps him on the back before leaving to talk to Feuilly and Combeferre. Grantaire watches him go, more than a little confused. As Bahorel says something to Feuilly, which makes him laugh, and then continues on a path over to Courfeyrac. He whispers something to him and Courfeyrac looks like he's remembering something important. Courfeyrac turns to Jehan and they shake their head at him. Then Courfeyrac strolls over to Grantaire.

"Hey R," Courfeyrac grins, never a good sign, but at least it seems genuine.

"Hi Courf. What's up?"

"I just wanted to show you something," He pulls out his phone and brings up YouTube, "Your channel has gotten really popular!" He shows Grantaire and yes, it kind of has, "They might start paying you if you keep these views up. I mean I like to think I helped since I told all my friends about the video we did together but the rest is all you, bud."

Courfeyrac had a lot of friends. Too many friends. Oh God, what had he gotten himself into. He had a lot of subscribers and he wasn't even aware of it, around 50 000 to be exact. What the fuck? How had he even pulled this off? People might start recognizing him places. What if Enjolras had seen it? Shit, shit shit.

His heart starts pumping faster and he feels like he's going to throw up again. He must look bad because Courfeyrac asks him if he's okay. At least he thinks he does, it's all starting to blur together and he can't move, he can't breathe. Eponine is there, telling everyone to back off. She's telling him to breathe, and gives him his headphones. He plugs them in and listens to what starts to play, calming him slightly. He flicks the elastic around his wrist. Eponine helps him out of the chair and outside for some fresh air. He can move again. He pulls out a cigarette and lights it. Breathe in and out. Smoke fills the air around him. He can breathe again. Slowly, his muscles relax one by one. They stand in silence for a long time. Grantaire's thoughts fill the silence easily.

"Are you okay? What happened?" Eponine asks.

"I'm popular on YouTube apparently."

Courfeyrac makes his way outside, unsure, trying not to disturb Grantaire. He walks over to where Eponine and Grantaire are standing and Eponine fashions him with a glare.

"Okay, look, I really didn't think that these videos would be... I just didn't think.. I mean, I'm sorry, I'll get Bahorel to give you back your sketchbook and you can stop making videos if you want. I thought this would be good news? I'm sorry, I never meant to push you or anything." Courfeyrac says in a rush.

Grantaire takes another drag from his cigarette and thinks about how he's going to respond. Courfeyrac really had meant well, only wanting Enjolras and himself to sort their shit out. Maybe he even thought Grantaire would be successful.

"It's okay Courf. I think I'm going to continue with the videos." Both Eponine and Courfeyrac look shocked. Grantaire rushes to continue, "I mean, I think it might be good for me and everyone I know will have already seen these so it doesn't really matter. Extra cash might be nice," As an afterthought he adds, "Plus, I don't want to let down the fans."

What Grantaire didn't tell Courfeyrac was that he actually enjoyed making the videos. He also didn't tell him that he liked that it gave him an excuse to tease Enjolras.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you get the hamilton pun c:


	5. so, there's a schedule

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry about how horrible i am at updating this on time haha, i've been overloaded with work! this is a longer update though! enjoy c:

It's barely ten o'clock when there's a loud knock at the door and Grantaire is pretty sure he's going to kill whoever is on the other side. Quite literally rolling out of bed, he grabs a hoodie and pulls it over his head. He seriously considers grabbing the wrench he knows he has lying around so he can hit the person on the other side of the door. Instead, he settles for grabbing his phone, shoving it into his pocket, before yanking the handle of his bedroom open and storming to the front door. He grabs the handle and pulls, already glaring at the space where a person appear.

"Hello, Grantaire." Combeferre says, pleasantly.

Grantaire's glare changes to a look of shock. He had no idea why Combeferre would be here, it's not like they were very close.

"Uh, hi 'Ferre. What are you doing here?" Grantaire replies, feeling suddenly self-conscious about the bed head and hoodie he'd thrown on. Combeferre looked as he always did, mildly exhausted but his appearance was clean and well-maintained.

Combeferre throws Grantaire a look of confusion and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a piece of paper. It looked like some sort of schedule, colour coded and everything. Figures, Combeferre was always very organized.

"I was told that you wanted to collaborate on a video? There was a schedule?" The other man frowns as he looks down at the piece of paper and looks at Grantaire like it's something he should already know.

"I hadn't really thought that far ahead? I mean it'd be nice to have you in a video and stuff- Wait, what schedule?"

"This one?" Combeferre hands him the paper.

Grantaire squints down at the paper. It's a calendar, labelled _Grantaire's really awesomely constructed video collab schedule!!!_ It's colour coded and the colours match up with each of his friends names on the side of the page. Combeferre was scheduled for today. This shit smelled like Courfeyrac meddling.

"I didn't make this? Who gave it to you?" Grantaire asks.

"Courfeyrac." Combeferre says, sounding like he's figured out the same thing Grantaire has.

Grantaire just nods and opens the door for Combeferre, wordlessly inviting him in. The other man nods back and somewhat awkwardly walks into Grantaire's apartment. He looks around, taking in his surroundings, probably concentrating on the mess. It's worse than when Courfeyrac had been over earlier. Now bottles of various liquors were scattered all around the apartment, marking a night well spent. Dirty dishes were left out in the kitchen and Grantaire was really glad Combeferre wasn't venturing into his bedroom. If possible, it was even messier in there. Grantaire waits for him to say something but he just seems to analyze his surroundings and store them away. Grantaire shuts the front door.

"Uh, I'm just going to get dressed and then we can get started, I guess? Make yourself at home or whatever, mi casa es su casa and all that."

Combeferre nods and turns toward the couch, like a man on a mission. Grantaire heads in the other direction. He walks into his bedroom, showers and changes quickly so he can get back to Combeferre. He heads out of his bedroom and into the living room where Combeferre has made himself quite comfortable. He's lounging on the couch, his collared shirt crumpling. He turns his head when he hears Grantaire come in. He looks at him expectantly. Why does everyone assume that Grantaire knows what the fuck he's doing?

"Okay, so I guess we can do a couple recipes?" Grantaire says uncertainly.

"Yes, that sounds good," Grantaire grabs the camera off the counter where he left it and tosses Combeferre a look.

"So, what do you know how to make or what do you want to make?"

"Aren't you supposed to make the management decisions?" The other man looks genuinely unhappy with the disorganization.

Grantaire laughs at that. Like he knew what he was doing.

"Well, not really, but I could try..?"

Combeferre looks lost in thought for a moment and then has that look he gets when he's about to add something to Enjolras' argument. Shit, even the thought of Enjolras' name brings about a stirring feeling and Grantaire's heart hurts a little. He really wished this wasn't the reaction he got at a mere mention of the man's name, what was he going to do with himself?

Luckily, Combeferre breaks his thoughts, "We could do a video with ramen noodles? I'm pretty good with those."

Grantaire thinks it over and realizes that it's actually a pretty good idea. He's not really surprised though, when did Combeferre ever come up with a bad idea?

"Good idea."

Grantaire makes his way to the kitchen, grabbing the ramen noodles he knows he has a ton of. They were cheap and helpful in a pinch. He knew that many of his friends had some of it in their cupboards and it was something Enjolras could find easily enough or substitute with something more fair trade.

"I know how to make ramen noodle omelettes?" Combeferre offers.

Grantaire grins and suddenly Combeferre isn't the only one with a plan.

~

Combeferre and Grantaire brainstorm as many weird ramen noodle recipes that they can think of. Grantaire comes up with ramen nuggets, ramen pizza, ramen pudding, and the ramen dog. Combeferre comes up with ramelette, egg drop soup, the ramen burger and the ramen taco. Their ideas are equally weird and before long, they're laughing at each other. They run out to get the materials they don't already have in Grantaire's house before coming back, groceries in hand.

Grantaire throws his keys on the counter and places the food down lightly. He starts to situate it on the counter, spreading it out so that they could easily grab ingredients. Combeferre comes over to help and they unpack in silence.

"So, uh, you heard from Enjolras since this whole," Grantaire tries to find a good word to describe what ever this was and fails, "thing started?"

"You mean the videos?" Combeferre is cautious around the subject of Enjolras. He knows how the furious blond revolutionary and Grantaire interact.

"Yeah, those things. Has he seen them?"

Combeferre nods, looking at Grantaire for a reaction. Grantaire tries to not give him one.

"Oh, okay."

The room falls back into silence. Deciding to change the subject, Grantaire thinks about the recipes and how this is going to work.

"So which recipe do you want to do first?" He grins wickedly.

Combeferre grins back.

~

They're in the process of setting up the camera as Courfeyrac wanders into Grantaire's humble abode.

"Oh god 'Ferre, hold me back so I don't kill him."

Combeferre laughs at Grantaire, even though Grantaire is only half-joking. I mean he made Combeferre come here at ten o'clock, who does that?

"Ha ha. How are you guys this fine afternoon?" Courfeyrac asks, striding over.

"It'd be better if I wasn't up. It's barely noon, dude." Grantaire shoots back at the same time Combeferre says fine.

"That's good," Courfeyrac continues, ignoring Grantaire.

"Are we honestly just going to pretend that he didn't make a schedule?" Grantaire bites out the word like there couldn't be anything worse.

Combeferre and Courfeyrac just peer over at him.

"I happen to like schedules."

"'Ferre is the one who's supposed to like schedules!"

"I can like them too. Anyway, I just came over to say hi and make sure that Grantaire didn't just kick you out, 'Ferre. I am happy to find that he didn't."

Grantaire rolls his eyes. Okay, maybe he had wanted to hit whoever was behind door number one, but it was _Combeferre_ , who Grantaire really didn't feel comfortable hitting. He was a wild card, I mean, would he hit back? What even was a Combeferre?

Courfeyrac doesn't need to know that, "I wouldn't have kicked him out!"

The man gives him a look.

"You do remember that one time Bahorel and Feuilly came to your apartment before noon, right? They came to check on you and you almost punched Bahorel! You almost-"

"Okay, one time! One time! Plus, it's Bahorel, he can fend for himself."

"Feuilly was _horrified!_ If he wouldn't have ducked-"

"Well, he did duck didn't he?"

"Just don't throw shoes at people next time."

Grantaire sighs and looks helplessly over to Combeferre who is watching the banter with mild amusement, like he knows both of them much too well. Combeferre knew everything much too well. Besides, it had been one time and Grantaire had been _very_ hungover. And they came before noon, everyone knew to leave Grantaire alone before noon.

"Courfeyrac, if I didn't throw shoes at people, how would they know not to come to my house before noon?"

Courfeyrac makes an angry noise and looks over at Combeferre for help, who just grins back at him. Grantaire likes Combeferre a lot more in this moment.

Courfeyrac looks about ready to shoot back a reply, but Combeferre is the one who speaks, "If you don't have something nice to say, say it in French."

Grantaire laughs, before mumbling, "Casse toi."

Courfeyrac looks slightly shocked, "I thought I was the linguistics major?"

Grantaire secretly knew a variety of many things. Many people could go long periods of time without knowing the amount of what he did. Most of his friends only saw sides of him, but if they brought them together, they could have close to a full image.

"I guess I'm more talented than you thought."

"Mange merde," Courfeyrac teases.

"Oh, what have I started?" Combeferre says softly to himself.

~

Courfeyrac is filming them, coming over to focus on the food that Combeferre and Grantaire have started to make, because he claims he doesn't know how to zoom in. He also claimed that the channel needed more camera angles, and he would "give the people what they want, damn it". Grantaire guessed that he was staying for Combeferre though.

"So what you have to do is coat the chicken in egg and then dip them into the ramen noodles," Grantaire is demonstrating how to do this while Combeferre heats up oil in a pan, "And then they'll turn out like this," Grantaire shows the camera.

Then Grantaire takes the nuggets and places them carefully into the oil. They make a satisfying sizzling sound.

"You probably want to be careful doing this at home," Combeferre informs the camera, because he's Combeferre.

"Yeah, that," Grantaire says.

"What, _safety?_ " Courfeyrac asks from behind the camera.

"Shut up, Courf, no one asked you," Grantaire teases.

Combeferre lets out a small chuckle, pushing the glasses up higher on the bridge of his nose. The glass was slightly fogged up from the heat but he looked perfectly okay with that. Courfeyrac's eyes linger a little too long on them.

"Bullies," He mutters.

"Oh, you love us."

Courfeyrac mumbles something under his breath that Grantaire doesn't quite catch and moves the camera over to where Combeferre is. Smooth. Grantaire rolls his eyes but grabs something to remove the nuggets from the oil. He places them on a plate with paper towel on it to let them cool.

Grantaire turns to the others, only to find Courfeyrac's chin resting on Combeferre's shoulder as he moves the camera closer to whatever Combeferre was doing. The other man didn't seem to mind.

Shaking his head, Grantaire says, "So we've done the egg drop soup, ramellete, ramen pizza, ramen burgers, ramen dogs and ramen nuggets. I think it's time to get really crazy. What do you think 'Ferre?"

"Fuck yes!"

Both Courfeyrac and Grantaire probably look shocked. Combeferre hardly ever swore in regular conversation, that was more Bahorel's department. Sure, he swore when he had things to do or at an injustice but it was irregular. When Combeferre realizes the exact same thing, he blushes. Courfeyrac makes a choking noise.

Combeferre apologizes profusely, talking about how he never swears and he just got overexcited.

"'Ferre, don't fucking worry about it!" Grantaire teases.

Thankfully, Combeferre finds it funny. Courfeyrac, however, still looks like a deer in the headlights. Grantaire can't help but shake his head. And he was the one who needed to get his shit together? No, it was definitely Courfeyrac who needed to do that.

"Okay. Well, that was an affirmative. We are go for launch."

They grab the ingredients they will need for the last two recipes; ramen pudding and ramen tacos. They do eenie meenie miney mo to pick which recipe to do first. Courfeyrac suggested it and then films it. Ramen pudding wins out.

Combeferre hands Grantaire the ingredients, precise and coordinated like always. Grantaire adds the egg into a rectangular glass container and then a very ripe banana follows the egg. Combeferre mixes it up with a fork while Grantaire adds cinnamon, chocolate chips ("because raisons are for losers"), and maple syrup. None of the measurements are exact and Combeferre looks very displeased by it. Then Combeferre puts in the noodles they had cooked earlier and adds them into the container, complaining that this wasn't very scientific.

They stir the odd mixture and put it in the oven at 350 degrees Fahrenheit and a timer set at 20 minutes. Then they sit back and talk at the camera about what they'd just done. After they finish speaking, the room is silent again. Courfeyrac breaks it.

"So, Grantaire, you read any of these comments?" He flicks off the camera and pulls Grantaire's laptop from where it had been sitting on the counter.

"And why would I do that? The internet is a dark and unhappy place, they're probably telling me to fuck off."

Combeferre makes an unhappy noise, like he doesn't think that Grantaire should be putting himself down. He isn't really though, it's just the truth.

"Aw, come on. I know that there are some nice comments! I looked," Courfeyrac wiggles his computer in front of him, trying to get Grantaire to take it.

"Fine."

Grantaire scanned through the page, skipping the meaner comments. There were actually some nice ones.

 

**ULTIMATE Late Night Recipes**

 

FeedEnjolras

Subscribe | 16, 174

 

**Published on February 18, 2016**

_hello internet, i really have no idea what i'm doing but enjoy this video. before you ask, i was not, in fact, high while taping this. and enj if you're out there, i recommend you try one of these, maybe learn to take a break or chill for like 5 seconds lol_

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**Xanomano**

this is my favourite thing ever pls keep doing this

 

**Rachel Jacobs**

These were actually really helpful in a pinch! My friends really liked making these last night!

 

**Iwrin Klchokic**

you were totally high while making this haha! no judgement brother as long as you keep this up

 

 

These were nice comments and Grantaire couldn't help but feel a little touched that someone went through all this effort to leave him one. Take actual time out of their lives to tell him they thought it was good. Courfeyrac takes the computer and scrolls for a bit, looking for something. He stops on a comment. Grantaire cannot believe his eyes.

 

**Enjolras**

Grantaire, I really wouldn't think that any of these would taste good, but I commend you for your creativity and the fact that many people actually think they're edible. How did Courfeyrac even manage to get you to do these? Not that they're bad, I really enjoyed watching it on one of my "breaks" as someone told me I need to "learn to take a break or chill for like 5 seconds". I think that you could do something great with this channel :)

 

Because what? Enjolras did not leave him a comment on his video. He was much to busy to do something like that. He was always talking about how much he had to do. But he had. He had actually sat down and watched the video and then _commented_. For fuck's sake he _put a smiley face._ What had the world come to?

Courfeyrac smiles at him and Combeferre seems to want to ask him something. Grantaire blushes instead and then curses himself when Courfeyrac coos.

"Are you going to reply?" Combeferre asks.

"I don't know." Is all Grantaire can seem to reply.

The room is silent for a while. Grantaire can see that the cursor is hovering over the reply button like the traitor it is. Did he want to reply? Part of him screamed yes, but part of him was completely terrified by that idea. The timer goes off, saving him from his decision. He shuts the computer.

"Let's do the next recipe and I'll figure this out later." He mumbles, moving to the oven.

They take out the ramen pudding and Courfeyrac films the finished product, after Grantaire adds maple syrup and ice cream on top of course.

"Anyone feeling dangerous?" Courfeyrac jokes.

Combeferre actually _winks_ and scoops up a fork, taking a mouthful of their concoction. He makes a satisfied noise, smiling at Courfeyrac. Courfeyrac has that _deer-in-the-headlights_ look again. Grantaire rolls his eyes.

"Hey Courf, you aren't doing a very good job of filming this," Grantaire states, gesturing to the forgotten camera pointed at the floor.

It's like neither of them even hear him. He shakes his head and starts to get ingredients for the ramen taco. When he's done, he waves a hand in front of Courfeyrac's face to get his attention. It works. He shakes himself out of a daze and is ready to film again.

Grantaire puts pork in a ziplock bag and Combeferre pours in the ramen seasoning. He rubs it on the pork, keeping his eyes on Courfeyrac the entire time. Grantaire thinks he hears Courfeyrac whimper but he's not sure.

They then fry up the pork in a pan until it is the right colour. In another bowl, Combeferre sprinkles cornstarch on the cooked noodles, then scallions, and some sesame oil. He mixes it up and then puts the noodles in the pan to fry. Grantaire flattens the noodles with a spatula and then flips the makeshift shell over.

Combeferre, seemingly getting the hang of cooking, puts the noodle shell on tinfoil and then puts the pork on that. Grantaire grabs goat cheese, avocado slices, and some sour cream and puts it on top. They use the tinfoil to push the noodles into a shell and let it cool.

Courfeyrac tries this recipe, with Combeferre filming.

"This is so good, 'Ferre." He says.

"Hey, I helped," Grantaire protests but they are both staring at each other again. It kind of feels like Cosette and Marius all over again, except slightly less sickening. I mean, you can't beat Marius on that particular staring level.

They clean up everything. Well, Combeferre cleans up everything, including the stuff that was already a mess when he arrived. Courfeyrac trailing close behind him, making jokes and smiling when he got soft laughter in return.

Grantaire wouldn't say that he wanted that. Or that he missed Enjolras.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you'd like to see the videos that the recipes come from here are some links  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2MSq2IAw7Z0  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YmVkJlRPpew  
> thanks for reading!  
> hopefully the next update will be in a more timely fashion


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